


Eight Maids a-Milking

by cissamione



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas [8]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:11:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cissamione/pseuds/cissamione
Summary: Christmas Eve traditions in the Busby house.





	Eight Maids a-Milking

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a bit of a weird idea, but I thought of it, so I just went with it :)  
> Enjoy!

“I’m  _ not _ milking cows, Delia!” Patsy’s shrill voice cut through the quiet of their bedroom in Delia’s parent’s house in Wales. Delia took Patsy’s hand with a smile and tugged her towards the door.

“Yes, Pats, you are. It’s Mam’s family tradition, and if you don’t, we won’t have eight.” Delia insisted. Before she opened the door, she turned around and lifted her hands to cup Patsy’s cheeks. “Think of it this way. Mam has asked you to participate in a family tradition. That means she’s starting to see you as family, which is a good thing, right cariad? She’s accepting us.” Delia lifted herself onto her tiptoes and pecked Patsy on the lips lightly, careful not to ruin the other woman’s red lipstick.

Patsy sighed, her hands resting on Delia’s hips, over her obnoxiously colourful and hideous Christmas jumper. “I suppose I could make an exception for you, Deels. Because I love you.” She rolled her eyes as Delia bounced with excitement. They went downstairs hand-in-hand to where Delia’s mother’s family were waiting. Delia’s parents and grandparents, brother and sister-in-law, niece, aunts, uncles, and cousins, all together somewhere around twenty people. As soon as Delia’s mother, Bronwen, saw them, she jumped up and began herding everyone outside.

“Come on, girls, where are you all?” Bronwen held her arms out, guiding a gaggle of girls towards a row of waiting cows as the rest of the family formed a semi-circle around them. The tradition was that eight unmarried girls from the family would each milk a cow on Christmas Eve, and the girl with the fullest pail after three minutes was the winner - sat at the head of the table, and had absolutely not jobs or tasks to do on Christmas day. It was becoming a silly tradition, but Bronwen was incredibly serious about it, so the family humoured her and took the competition as seriously as they could, so they had managed to convince eight girls to participate, including Delia’s seven-year-old niece, Eira. The numbers were made up of four of Delia’s teenage cousins, Seren, Rhiannon, and twins Anwen and Gwen, along with one of the older cousin’s daughters, ten-year-old Carys.

The eight girls allowed Bronwen to shuffle them next to a cow each, and Delia flashed Patsy a reassuring smile, as they all took their seats on the low wooden stools. “Tri, dau, un… ewch!” Bronwen said, waving a little flag, and the girls set to work. Delia had been doing this since she was little, and she knew she had a good chance of winning. The little girls, Eira and Carys were likely to be the slowest, while Anwen and Gwen had been raised in Swansea, they weren’t farm girls. Seren was too worried about her nails to go fast enough, but Rhiannon was strong competition, and Patsy was a wildcard. She assured Delia she knew how to milk a cow, but Delia really didn’t know how good she would be at it, or if she was lying to save face.

“Stopio!” Bronwen shouted over the cheers of the family, and Delia sat back, patting Daisy firmly. She watched as her mother walked down the line, checking each pail, and marking it off in a notebook. She checked Delia’s pail, the second to last, with a slight smile, then Patsy’s. Once she was finished, she called the girls over to her, and called them out in order. “Seren, Eira, Carys, Gwen, Anwen.” So far, as Delia had expected, and she shot a grin at Patsy. “Rhiannon, Delia, and Patsy is the winner!” Delia’s eyes widened in shock. Patsy actually could milk a cow, and quickly too. “Well done, Patsy.” Bronwen hugged Patsy briefly, then stepped back, allowing the family to swarm the competitors.

“Congratulations, cariad!” Delia pulled Patsy into a tighter, longer hug, and kissed her gently. “Mam will love you forever now, Pats.” She whispered in Patsy’s ear, and the redhead laughed.

“That was the plan, Deels.” Patsy winked and Delia kept her held close to her side as her aunts and uncles took their turns congratulating Patsy. She definitely hadn’t expected it to go this way, but the outcome couldn’t have been better, the whole family adored Patsy, and even her mam was properly warming up to her. This promised to be a very good Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> the welsh means 'one, two three... go!' and 'stop!'  
> Cariad is a welsh endearment, kind of like darling, I think, but I'm not Welsh so.. ;)
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments!


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